


stars, won't you shine on me

by seventhstar



Series: Viktor Is Luna Lovegood: The AU [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Quidditch World Cup, Romance, Sequel, There Is No Kissing In The Main Fic So Here Slake Your Thirst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 20:38:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16205225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seventhstar/pseuds/seventhstar
Summary: SCANDAL AT THE WORLD CUP! JAPANESE PLAYER YUURI KATSUKI CAUGHT IN FLAGRANTE!Dear readers, in this week’sOcculo Celebritywe present for you one Yuuri Katsuki. Katsuki is Japan’s youngest player, a Hogwarts alumnus with no loyalty to the school itself despite all the opportunities it gave him. A half-blood, Katsuki is often seen using muggle technology and rarely wears robes; like many millennial wizards, he lacks an appreciation for the solemn power of magic. And apparently, based on this photo submitted by our intrepid source, he also lacks even a modicum of decency…





	stars, won't you shine on me

**Author's Note:**

> I looked at my outline and it's like...ten chapters...before these two kiss in the actual fic, so hey, here you go. Kissing.

**SCANDAL AT THE WORLD CUP! JAPANESE PLAYER YUURI KATSUKI CAUGHT IN FLAGRANTE!**

Dear readers, in this week’s _Occulo Celebrity_ we present for you one Yuuri Katsuki. Katsuki is Japan’s youngest player, a Hogwarts alumnus with no loyalty to the school itself despite all the opportunities it gave him. A half-blood, Katsuki is often seen using muggle technology and rarely wears robes; like many millennial wizards, he lacks an appreciation for the solemn power of magic. And apparently, based on this photo submitted by our intrepid source, he also lacks even a modicum of decency…

 

* * *

 

“Wow.” The grass under Viktor’s body is a little damp. _I’m going to have grass stains everywhere,_ he thinks. _That’s going to be interesting to explain to the interns. Why is there grass in your hair, Viktor? Oh, no reason, it’s just that winning and firewhiskey made my boyfriend_ incredibly _horny._ God, Viktor is going to have bruises tomorrow. He can’t believe that Yuuri—well, he can believe that Yuuri physically carried him out of the World Cup afterparty to fuck him on the pitch, where anyone could see. But he’s not sure he’s ever done anything to deserve it. Fuck. Maybe he was a saint in a past life. Also he probably should have cast a disillusionment charm. Though in Viktor’s defense, Yuuri is very distracting.

“Yuuri.”

“You lost them?”

“What?”

Yuuri, who is lying with him in the grass, with half of him still sprawled over Viktor, flicks at Viktor’s ear, where he’s wearing one plain silver stud. Viktor has three other holes there, one for every award he’s won so far, but he’s not wearing his usual plethora of earrings.

“You lost your earrings,” Yuuri says seriously. “That’s okay. I’ll buy you more. With my prize money.”

“I didn’t lose them, I decided not to wear them so that I wouldn’t embarrass you today.”

“What? Who said you were embarrassing? I—”

“No, stay.” Viktor pulls him back down before he can do something stupid, like duel a Ministry official. He runs his fingers through Yuuri’s mussed, sweaty hair. Yuuri’s soft, for all that he just hauled Viktor out of a party like Viktor was a sack of potatoes. Viktor’s never worried that he might be distracted by the hordes of fans begging him to lick salt off their nipples or that fame might turn his head. “It’s fine.”

Yuuri settles against him, toying absently with the ends of Viktor’s fringe.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he says. “I’m sorry that I was out late practicing all the time.”

“I’m sorry that I keep bringing home experimental and magically unstable devices from the lab.”

“Vicchan and Makkachin get scared,” Yuuri whispers. “You’re scaring our dogs.”

“I’m a monster,” Viktor agrees. _Makkachin_ was a reckless baby Viktor’s puppy; she knows no fear.

Overhead there are fireworks, throwing out dragons made of sparks in every color to join the stars. The sound drowns out the music, the celebratory cries. The world could have ended, everywhere but this patch of grass where Viktor is lying with the love of his life, and he wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t need to know. The world is here.

He puts his hand up to Yuuri’s face. Yuuri covers it with his own. They both have scarred hands: Yuuri with his quaffle calluses, Viktor with an array of tiny burn and cuts.

“You got salt on your face.”

“You missed some,” Viktor says, though it’s not quite true; Yuuri had put the salt on his face earlier to do a body shot, but instead he’d downed the tequila, climbed into Viktor’s lap, and made out with him instead. So Viktor’s pretty sure the salt was drunk Yuuri’s idea of a clever plan.

(Viktor’s not exactly sober himself at this moment, and also he’s lying on the ground mostly undressed, so he’s beginning to suspect it was, in fact, very clever.)

Yuuri bends over him to lick it away, and then to lick at Viktor’s mouth, and Viktor puts his arms around Yuuri’s neck and pulls him down to kiss him. He tastes of lime.

“Hey,” Yuuri says when he pulls away. Viktor blinks as his hair, tinted so that the light reflects blue off it to match the Japanese team’s colors, is brushed away from his face. “Give me your hand.”

Viktor gives Yuuri his hand. Yuuri fumbles for his wand, and jabs at air wordlessly; nothing happens at first, then there’s a rustle as a tiny velvet-lined box rolls towards them across the pitch. Yuuri opens it.

He puts the ring—plain gold, gleaming—on Viktor’s hand. “There,” he says, smiling like a cat with cream. “Got you.”

“You did,” Viktor says. His voice cracks. “Where’s the other one?”

Yuuri flicks his wand. The box upends itself over Viktor’s palm, dropping another golden ring there: plain gold, gleaming. A perfect match. Yuuri gives Viktor his hand; Viktor slips the ring into his finger, taps it once with Yuuri’s wand to resize it. He can use Yuuri’s wand now, though it’s a temperamental willow; it’s as if it knows him as well as Yuuri does.

“Oh, Yuuri, they’re beautiful.”

“I infused them with felix felicis.”

“You—you made felix felicis?”

“It was really hard,” Yuuri says. “But I wanted to do it for you.” He frowns. “I donated it when I was done, I didn’t drink it.”

“You didn’t save me any?” Viktor pouts. He’s never successfully made felix felicis. If he weren’t so in love with Yuuri he’d be jealous.

“Maybe a little bit,” Yuuri says. “You know. For the wedding.”

“Save it for the honeymoon.”

Viktor pulls Yuuri down again, and Yuuri hooks a hand underneath his thigh, and they don’t make it home until the sun starts to rise.

 

* * *

 

 **intern1:** hey viktor are u coming into the lab today?

 **viktor:** yeah why  
  
**intern1:** have u seen the prophet today  
  
**viktor:** the prophet is tabloid garbage so no  
  
**intern1:** u uh  
**intern1:** u made the front page  
**intern1:** yakov is threatening to AK yuuri

 **viktor:** cool  
**viktor:** if yakov asks im dead for the forseeable future

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are much appreciated!


End file.
